


Wolfsbane

by aypreal



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Imprinting, M/M, Mates, Werewolf, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aypreal/pseuds/aypreal
Summary: What entered his line of sight though was something out of fairytales and nightmares.It started with a paw that was almost the size of Yuri’s two hands combined. Then fur as black as coal and Yuri wished that the almost wet mess on its coat wasn’t blood. He was also sure that it wasn’t just any giant feline nor canine breed because that thing was huge.The panic in his heart was getting too intense and he knew that the darkness playing on the edges of his vision was his body shutting itself down.Yuri won’t be forgetting this memory. Especially those amber eyes that stared at him with surprising intensity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue.

Yuri knew he has been running for awhile. 

Maybe a full half hour, give or take. It shouldn’t bother him, especially if he has spent most of his life dancing, and cardio was never a problem. In a normal situation, he would embrace the sync of his steps to his breathing — to his heartbeat. But this? Every step was getting torturous, his breathing too inconsistent due to panic and the next heartbeat might be his last. 

The laughter of his assailants were echoing through the labyrinth of alleys he has chosen to run into when the fuckers thought he was too pretty to be walking alone at night and _hey, know what’s a good idea? Accompany the little dancer home, that’s what!_

Yuri knew that he was trapped. He wasn’t familiar to these alleyways anymore and the fuckers knew that, maybe that’s the reason why they were so patient with the chase because they knew that he would be running into a deathtrap. A dead end. 

But hell, Yuri would never go down without fighting. 

The bricked dead end was finally at his face, and for once finally questioned why he took up ballet instead of the cliched karate for boys. Karate can give him a little advantage against the men who was still after him. Ballet may have given him a strong physique and his legs were powerful enough to crush something but it won’t give him enough chance to survive whatever shit-storm was brewing. Now wasn’t the time to question his life decisions though because he needed to think of a way to outsmart those men who wanted him on his hands and knees. 

There should be a way out! He can’t end like this. He hasn’t even updated the medicine schedule that was posted on their fridge for _dedushka_ , or fully decided on whether or not to get Potya a feline or canine companion; and besides, his beginner class haven’t received their first pointe shoes yet! He has a show to finish by the end of the summer and Yuuko would freak if she found out that her star student died before the show—

Brick wall.

Yuri felt the hopeless panic tie a noose on his neck as the brick wall came closer and closer with every step he took. His palms tapped the rough surface of the wall as if looking for a magical piece that would open the alley for him like what it did to that famous child wizard in one of the blockbuster series his classmates read before. But it didn’t. None of the pieces gave in no matter how hard he pushed and wished and wished and wished… _Fucking reality._

“Come here little _danseur_. Let’s have some fun.”

The mock was obvious and his spitfire tongue was ready to lash out but the panic was blocking all the profanities he wanted to shout. He has to keep his wits with him in order to overcome this… _Clusterfuck_ he walked himself into. 

“Come, come, little kitty…”

The pounding on his chest sounded like drums to his ears as he scrambled to hide behind a dumpster. The shadows of his assailants turned smaller, which only indicated that they were getting closer and closer to that last turn that would lead them to Yuri.

Their laughter was becoming louder when Yuri remembered that out of the pile of dirty tights and leotards, dancing slippers and cat-themed clothing, was an old gift from his grandfather — a butterfly switchblade. He carefully took it out from the inner pocket of his bag. It was a silver, intricate thing that gleamed in the barely lit alley Yuri was hidden in. Last he remembered though, it was sharp as fuck and with shaking hands, he quietly flipped open the blade out of its slim confines and gripped it near his chest.

Yuri was curled and ready to sprung, quietly counting each loud step his assailants took. 

It would be just a few seconds before he was found and whatever it takes, Yuri swore he would be the victor. He has a grandfather and a cat to go home to. He has young girls to teach ballet and a would-be-mentor to impress. He can’t die like this…

“Come out now little kitty, stop hiding… We just want some fun…”

_3._ Yuri knew he was trembling all over. 

“We promise to return you in one piece…”

_2._ The shadows were getting closer.

“Just a taste, kitty…”

_1._ It would just take one small element of surprise, won’t it?

“Aarrgghh!” It was a loud, desperate cry and Yuri froze in his corner. Someone shouted and with the way he was locking his jaws, it wasn’t him. 

The voices continued struggling and the ugly part was, Yuri watched their shadows dance with murder. They were fighting something and they were obviously losing. He didn’t know what nor who it was. All he knew was that it was big and it wasn’t hesitant in delivering the men to their early graves. 

A hand slapped the ground in front of him and Yuri wished he could melt into the wall. It was the hand of someone who was crawling away from something and Yuri was torn if he should help or drive his blade through that hand. After all, it did plan to harm him in the first place. But before he could make up his mind, the hand was pulled away from his view and the last of the dancing shadows and laboured, tortured struggling stopped. Only one shadow was left. 

It was too quiet. Too quiet compared to the last few minutes he had been hearing his own struggling steps, his thundering heartbeat and the disgusting suggestions of his now-gone assailants. 

Some people would take the opportunity to run for their lives but Yuri couldn’t bring himself to even stand up. 

Something was still out there. 

Something was waiting for him to drop his guards and believe in the false peace it offered him. 

It felt like eternity for Yuri and he wasn’t even sure if he ever looked away from that corner where fingers marked the ground in an obvious attempt to escape death. His switchblade was still poised to aim and his body was tense and ready to jump at any given time. 

What entered his line of sight though was something out of fairytales and nightmares. 

It started with a paw that was almost the size of Yuri’s two hands combined. Then fur as black as coal and Yuri wished that the almost wet mess on its coat wasn’t blood. He was also sure that it wasn’t just any giant feline nor canine breed because that _thing_ was huge. 

The panic in his heart was getting too intense and he knew that the darkness playing on the edges of his vision was his body shutting itself down. 

Yuri won’t be forgetting this memory. Especially those amber eyes that stared at him with surprising intensity.

 

 

****

 

 

_That dream again._


	2. Amber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s barely 7AM and Yuri feels like his mind is travelling a mile per second with theories of his dream. Times like these are the hardest to ignore; when the dream was too fresh that Yuri could almost feel the tension on his limbs and his heart drums that thundering panic of a barely survived escape.

_That dream again._

Yuri learned to stop the overwhelming panic whenever the dream revisits him. It has been three weeks since it started. He has stopped putting so much thought about it, or maybe he forced himself to focus on other things just to stop thinking about it. That being said, he doesn’t really have much time to waste between making sure his _dedushka_ drinks his medicine, feeding and spoiling Potya, assisted in their small bakery, taken care of his girls and that his audition piece for the Bolshoi is perfected within his timeline. 

It’s barely 7AM and Yuri feels like his mind is travelling a mile per second with theories of his dream. Times like these are the hardest to ignore; when the dream was too fresh that Yuri could almost feel the tension on his limbs and his heart drums that thundering panic of a barely survived escape. 

It was a wolf. Or some type of canine specie that Yuri could not recognise. All he know is that it was almost six feet tall in his dream, from the flat of its paw to the tops of its alerted ears. Yuri could have disregarded it as some fucked up dream that could be a side effect of all the stress in his life. Yet the wolf looked like it knew him. And maybe that’s the only thing that’s really bothering Yuri. 

The eyes looked too human despite its monstrous appearance. And it knew Yuri. In fact, it knew him well.

 

 

****

 

 

The thought continued to follow Yuri until he’s descending the stairs that connected their private quarters and his _dedushka’s_ shop. 

Their house is a small, humble two story building located at the edge of Wolfsbane. And if one would ask Yuri, he’d claim that they have a forest in their backyard which technically, is correct. Their place is located on the borders of civilisation and the woods after all. 

Regardless of their location, the locality of Wolfsbane never thought it as too much effort to drive all over town just to get a taste of his _dedushka’s_ pastry. 

The first floor is all of _Polina’s;_ founded since his grandfather quit as a medic in the military to settle down with Yuri’s grandmother. The bakery was named after her. Needless to say, the second floor is the home Yuri had known for all of his life. 

He enters the room just right after his _dedushka_ placed the last batch of piroshki in the oven. His cat, Potya was perched on top of the counter in all of her feline majesty and basking in the morning sun. Yuri greets his grandfather before giving Potya a scratch behind her ears.

“Good morning, Yura.” Nikolai greets back, “How’s sleep?”

“You know, the usual.” He perches himself on the counter right beside his cat, “Peachy.” There’s a sarcastic tone on his voice which his grandfather never fails to recognise. Yuri never hid the fact about his terrible sleeping from his grandfather. He yelled and grumbled and complained and maybe yelled some more. 

The true cause of his issue though, his grandfather knew nothing about that. 

It’s getting irritating. On some nights he’d stay awake in paranoia that he’d get the same dream, or maybe see more of that last scene. Other nights involved restless sleep like he was trapped in that dark alley and fighting for his life — totally forgetting that it was all in his unconscious mind. 

“Maybe you should slow down for a bit, Yurachka.” Nikolai replied as he wipes down the remainder of flour stains on the table. “I know Miss Baranovskaya will be visiting soon…”

“Very soon, _ded._ ”

“Yes, yes, very soon indeed.” The old man smiled at the grumbling, “But I’m sure you can take a few days off. You can’t sleep well if you let that anxiety eat you up.”

“I’m not anxious.” Yuri denies. He knew he is anxious. “I know that I’ll be chosen.” Lilia Baranovskaya is the most decorated _prima ballerina_ of the Bolshoi. If he can manage to impress her, she could offer him a stepping stone towards his dream. 

So no, he _wasn’t_ anxious. Yuri won’t be pushed into an anxious loser just because his dream is dangling in front of him, hanging on a barely-there thread. Nope, he refused. 

“You keep saying that…” Nikolai let the conversation end there along with one last swipe of his washcloth on the table. “Anyway, go get yourself some tea and help Yuuko with the morning rush.” 

Yuri didn’t answer but did as he was told anyway. He made himself tea and savoured a few sips before he braced himself for the ‘morning rush’. 

Now, the ‘morning-rush’ in _Polina’s_ wasn’t as busy as it was in chick-flick movies or New York cafes. 

Or chick-flick movies in New York cafes. Their ‘rushing’ customers are composed of elderly people like his _ded_ who made it a habit in their 60-70 something years to wake up early and get breakfast. It’s rare for Yuri to even have a glimpse of people his age at 7AM anymore, other than those unfortunate ones who are tasked the agonising errand to make breakfast.  

Yuri finds Yuuko on the counter, ringing up purchases. It doesn’t even seem like she needed any help. There are only two elderly ladies on queue and around five more wandering around the bakery with baskets barely filled with pastry.

Yuri won’t hurry them. He knew how hard it is to choose which ones to buy when all of his _ded's_ goods tastes like god’s blessing. 

None of the wandering customers seem needed help in anything, so he placed himself beside Yuuko to assist with bagging the pastry into paper bags. 

“Good morning, Yurachka.” Yuuko greeted before turning her attention back to old Mrs Dmitri and her basket of pastries. “How is Dominik, Sylvia?” Yuri playfully rolls his eyes at the question. The Dmitri couple of Wolfsbane is the perfect picture of an old, happy marriage. Although Dominik Dmitri is one of Yuri’s least favourite people. 

He’s… Old with ancient gender rules and mythical beliefs, to describe it lightly. 

“His back is still hurting and he might be grumble about it, but he appreciates Takeshi’s help in the garden.” Sylvia replied. “Visit us for dinner next time, won’t you Yuuko?” She added when Yuuko was already handling the next customer’s purchase. “And bring the girls with you? Sometimes it’s just nice to have kids making noise inside the house, you know?” Sylvia waited for her friend’s pastries to be bagged before escorting their gossiping selves out. 

“Wow,” Yuri comments once the old ladies are out. “There are actually people who enjoy your spawns noise?” Yuuko laughs and Yuri accepts the hit on his arm. The triplets, Axel, Lutz and Loop are three of the most handful, restless and adorable kids he has ever witnessed. 

“It’s the chubby cheeks. And besides, being triplets make them cute. By default.”

“You mean tolerable.” 

They continued ringing up and packaging pastries with light banter up until the last customer left with a warming bag of pastry. 

Finally, Yuuko is allowed enough time to enjoy the tea she ‘bullied’ Yuri on making. Yuri likes Yuuko. She’s a young mother with a noisy husband and even noisier kids. She helps part time in the bakery since the time Yuri was offered a job in the small dance school their town hosted. She covers the shifts that Yuri can’t do because of his ballet — either it’s for his own person or teaching  a class.

“No,” Yuri laments. 

“I’ll tell them you said that.”

“You ask me everyday and the answer will remain the same.” Honestly, the topic is getting old. 

“Well, my girls are asking for the same thing everyday and as a mother, I try to keep my promises. And I _promised_ to ask you.” Yuuko grumbles and Yuri smirks at the obvious, slightly confusing look of fondness and irritation on her face. “Do you know how challenging patience is when you’re asked to promise something nine times?”

“Nine times?”

“They each ask thrice. Multiply by three? You got nine.” Yuri laughs.

“They have graduated…”

“I know, I know.” Yuuko replies with a palm facing Yuri’s face. He swipes at it. “They’re ten. They have to level up, and with that they have to adjust with their new bodies, new class and with a new teacher, blah-blah-blah. That logic won’t make sense for eight year olds, Yuri. You know that.”

Yuri shrugs. “Speaking of those little monkeys, where are they?”

“With their dad at the Dmitri’s. It’s his off day and he offered to help with the gardening.”

“How can he work with those three leaving a disaster behind them?”

It’s Yuuko’s turn to shrug. “They enjoy Dominik’s ancient stories about gods and deities and warriors and hunters. They always insist to tag along, and we agree. That helps in making sure _our_ house remains in one piece.”

Yuri smiles at the comment before draining the rest of his tea while Yuuko entertains the latest patron who came in. 

 

 

****

 

 

It’s a relaxing morning. 

Yuri didn’t have practice nor a class to manage until 2PM, so he helps his _dedushka_ and Yuuko manage the bakery. He continued to bag purchases, assisted some patrons with their baskets, carried trays of piroshki from the ovens to the shelves and denied offers of matchmaking from a nosy group of old ladies. 

He was only nineteen for goodness sakes, and way far off the expiration of his dating shelf life, thank you very much! 

In between his _dedushka’s_ comments about Potya being too fat and Yuuko’s teasing and the customers who seem to come in packs per interval, thoughts about his confusing dreams and the shadows of sleepiness were at the farthest corner of his mind. 

It’s nearing noon when Yuuko, who’s arranging their latest display of pastries by the window, looks outside and immediately shrieks. She runs to the counter and shocks both Yuri and his cat out of their relaxed states. 

When Yuri shoots her a questioning glare, she only smirked and whispered, “Your dreamboat future boyfriend is coming in…”

And like a scripted scene, Otabek Altin came through their doors.

He is as eye-catching as ever. Tall, bronze and absolutely handsome. Especially in his dark clothes and well worn leather jacket; that man candy outfits were reserved for DJ nights though.

Not that Yuri frequents on attending his gigs, it’s just… It’s always a coincidence that whenever Yuri decided to have a night out with his friends, Otabek was always on the booth. And he saw him enough that the dark clothes and the leather jacket were starting to appear like a signature look for the DJ. 

“Close your jaw, Yuri.”

He never got to the part of his adolescence where he got rid of his annoying crush on Otabek. 

Who didn’t? He’s the mayor’s son, one of the top track-and-field athletes during high school, a mechanic, a DJ and as per Yuuko, an obvious sweetheart. 

He always insisted that he had stopped crushing on the guy when he turned 16. Insisted that Otabek is too boring, too much of a mystery bad boy that it’s almost predictable; Yuri used all the cliche excuses on the book, and he’d tell everyone that on repeat and in the same sequence, if asked. 

Yuri knew that it only got interesting since then. Unfortunately, Otabek doesn’t have the time of the day for him. 

“Good day, Otabek! How can we help you today?” Yuuko greets enthusiastically, always the beacon of customer service. The jab on Yuri’s ribs was enough to slap his soul back to his body because he’s suddenly conscious enough to not stop the eye-roll. 

_Better act cool, Plisetsky._

“Is Mr Plisetsky around?” _Gosh, his voice._ Yuri groans internally. It’s chocolate on a stick. 

“He’s in the back!” Yuuko replies and Yuri starts on busying himself with clearing some of the pastry bags that he left on the counter. He wishes he had his earphones with him so it’s easier to hide from Otabek. It’s always been effortless for him to act like the uncaring bitch (which he still is, like, _all the time_ ) when his earphones were out. “Do you want me to call him out for you?”

“No—”

“Um—”

Yet before Yuri or Otabek could stop the usually accommodating woman ( _who periodically had the habit of betraying her friends,_ Yuri added), the door to the kitchen was already swinging. Yuri swears he’d get back at her. 

Hesitatingly, Yuri looks at Otabek. 

The fucker already had his eyes glued at the smooth calligraphy on the wall behind Yuri. Point taken. _He’s just not interested._

Otabek is the reason that Yuri never had the chance to really date someone. He’s a perfectionist and Otabek Altin is like the embodiment of boyfriend material for him. He looks and seems, effortlessly cool. He always helps out with any social movement his mayor father launches. He’s adorable with his sister and besides, his grandfather likes him just fine. 

The town of Wolfsbane is small enough that it only hosted a number of schools. Too bad that the two of them practically have to share, and with Otabek always on the edge of Yuri’s line of sight, stopped the blonde from transferring his unrequited attention to others. 

He’s always aware of his presence even if Otabek has zero interest on him. They didn’t interact with each other back when they were still in school. He was never looking at Yuri and when he does, it was either with a confused look as if Yuri was some sort of puzzle or Mila would say that _he was looking at you, Yura!_

The only time that he would willingly interact with Yuri would be when his father would tag him along during his visits at _Polina’s_ , pick up his sister from ballet practice and Yuri had to give specific instructions about body care, or times when he’d heroically save Yuri’s grandpa some errands that Yuri can’t do himself. 

“Here.” Yuri sees a small paper bag being placed near him on the counter. He raises his head to look at Otabek who only shrugged. “Your grandpa said you had trouble sleeping. Valerian tea can help.” 

Yuri looks at Otabek long enough that it’s satisfying to see the normally stoic guy squirm under his gaze. He likes to imagine that he could trigger a response from Otabek. 

He made sure that the smirk didn’t show on his face before he dragged the small bag towards him and opened it. He’s greeted by dried herbs. They looked like one of those really fancy ones that rich people buy, not the commercialised products Yuri and his grandpa enjoy. 

“How…” Because Otabek couldn’t have spent money on him, right?

“They aren’t hard to find in the woods… If you know where to look.” The Altins are old money in town. They own hectares of land that have been used to cultivate one business and more. Maybe they do herbal gardens too? It won’t be surprising if they do.

“Um, thanks.” Yuri answered.

Otabek only shrugs as Yuri silently prayed to whoever is in charged with his mental health that his blush isn’t as embarrassing as he thought it was. And suddenly, Yuri feels like he’s sixteen again and crushing on the coolest kid in school. 

There has always been something about Otabek that he can’t seem to figure out. Something wild and always under his skin… Like Yuri could always expect him to burst between the seams and he won’t be surprised if he does. 

_Mmroooow_

They both look down. Although Yuri had to lean on the counter to see what he already knew. Potya (his traitor cat) is already rubbing herself all over Otabek, like _always._ She is’t very friendly with people except Yuri and his _Ded_ but, Otabek she likes. 

“Hey, girl.” He hears Otabek whisper, and even though the guy is leaning down to look at Yuri’s cat who’s already standing on her hind legs like she’s waiting for him to pick her up. “How are you?”

_Mmrrooow_

She already had a paw on his leg and if Yuri didn’t want to see how everything would turn out, he’d shout at the guy to pick up his princess, crush or not. 

“Can I?” Otabek turns to him and surprises Yuri that he’d even bother asking. Some people just touch without even asking and they learn their lesson after leaving the premises with claw marks tattooed on their skin. 

Yuri nodded and watches Otabek Altin pick up Potya and carried her with the affection and the respect that she deserves. 

 _I’d marry you in a heartbeat if you just look my way,_ ok. Fucking dammit, a full KO.

“Yes, yes, I miss you too.” The guy whispers and let her feline majesty lick kisses all over his face.  Yuri wishes he could do that too. 

“I always wonder why she likes you so much.” Otabek looks at him and the fingers that’s caressing Potty’s fur stopped, “I… I mean, she’s not friendly with others. Usually it’s just me and _Ded._ ” He reasons. “You don’t keep catnip anywhere in your person do you? Because that’s just fucking cheating.”

Otabek chuckled. 

Yuri feels blessed.  Yeah, he can do this. He can survive a conversation with Otabek Altin without melting in a puddle.

“No. I don’t.”

“I won’t be surprised if you did.” He points at the bag of tea. 

Otabek shrugs, “She recognises an old friend. That’s all.”

“Maybe you’re just charming.” Because Potya is not that kind. “Yuuko has been here forever and she still don’t like her.” Otabek didn’t reply, but he gives Yuri another polite smile.

And it’s so forced that Yuri wants to die. There he go, taking his chances at flirting and Otabek just _politely_ stops him. Just like that. 

“I heard my name.” Yuuko re-entered the room with Yuri’s grandfather in tow. 

Yuri has never been so relieved in being rescued. 

He just went back to packing the bags while the three of them discussed about Nikolai’s truck that Otabek managed to fix — _again._

And _no, sir. It’s free of charge._

Yuri internally growled the dying sound of unrequited feelings. He’s so fucked.

 

 

****

 

 

 

“And—bow.” Yuri would never curve his body in such half-ass way, not even when he was ten and just starting. His beginners class are just babies from ages four to eight though and definitely in no condition to attempt more professional techniques on. “Okay, good job monsters!” He cheers with a smirk and his babies, with their pure hearts and soul, whopped.

Yuri never understood why he was given the beginners class to begin with. He’s rough and not exactly the friendliest of people. There are others of course. Kinder, and gentler teachers that could handle the baby class. But when Minako, his mentor, gave him his class and he asked _fuck, why me,_ she gave him a smile and answered, “Well, you’re disciplined, strict and pretty enough for the babies. They’ll be inspired.”

He grabbed his towel off the bar and wiped what little sweat he had on his temple and neck as he watch his babies scamper for their small bags and like he taught them, wiped off their own sweat using Barbie and Elsa towels. 

Satisfied that each toddler is being hygienic, he takes his phone from his bag and checks for the time. It’s only a quarter till five. The studio is available until Yuri is ready to head home. He definitely has enough time to work on his solo. 

He’s busy mentally mapping his movements on one particular bridge when a hand tugged on his tights. Yuri didn’t jump, he’s too used on small humans needing his attention every now and then. He looks down and is greeted with Aisha Altin’s toothy smile. 

She’s his favourite out of everyone he taught so far. She’s enthusiastic during lessons and to Yuri’s delight, unlike his other babies, is never afraid of Yuri. The fact that she’s Otabek Altin’s baby sister is only a bonus for him. And he’ll take that secret to his grave. 

He crouched down ‘till she’s able to look at him without looking up so much. God knows she needs that when she always had to look up to her brother and father—who both towered over people all the time. “Yes, _solnyshko?_ ”

“Can I watch you dance?” She asks. Yuri sometimes practices his own routine if some of his babies’ guardians were too late in picking them up. And he always let them watch. He excused that it’s a better use of his time than babysitting. The gentle sparkle of admiration in their eyes are _not_ motivation enough. _Of course not._

“Will Otabek be late today?” Yuri asked back and with the smile she flashes him, he knew that she had him wrapped around her little finger. 

“No, but I wanna watch you fly.” She requests and Yuri knew that he’ll end up dancing anyway. 

“Alright, but promise me that you’ll just watch okay?” The last time she asked to watch, she attempted a firebird jump that almost broke her neck. Yuri never panicked for another being since Nikolai fell down on their kitchen floor due to an insane back pain. At least not until the Altins started fucking up his mental health anyway.

Aisha didn’t even bother to hide the fact that she’s planning to mirror his movements, “ _Solnyshko,_ you’re too young for the main jumps. You have to grow big first.” He didn’t hesitate on picking her up along the way and gently dumping her along with the other babies so he could have the space he needed. “Promise me?”

Aisha pouts and he almost gave in. But he’ll never forgive himself if she accidentally break something that could lead to permanent damage. “Promise me or I’ll tell your _ake_ that you’ve been naughty.” When she looked smug he adds, “Or I’ll tell your brother.”

Satisfied with the little fear in her eyes like a sadistic asshole, he went to the speakers and played his favourite solo. _In Regards to Love — Agape._

 _Agape_ was his first solo. Minako said it was choreographed by a friend whom Yuri was sure he will never know nor see the face of. But coming from a total stranger, Yuri has learnt so much technique and emotional enlightenment in a series of twirls, sequences and jumps. At first he expected that he would be given a wild, _screaming_ choreography which would naturally suit a wildfire teenager like Yuri. So when he was shown a gentle, graceful sequence and a story about pure _love,_ Yuri was shaken to his core. He had protested about the wrongness of it, the awkward pairing of his temper and the dance. Until he understood what _Agape_ was. 

In moments that he let himself look at the babies who are still watching him, he saw himself. He looked at dancers with awe before, when he was as tiny and not sure how or where to focus all his rage on. 

When _Agape_ finished, he continues dancing until one by one, his babies were picked up by their respective guardian until he’s sharing the studio with Aisha. She obviously took the privacy as a sign to join him on the floor. Although, like she promised, she didn’t attempt any jumps; wholly satisfied with trying to mirror Yuri’s movements. 

Until Otabek Altin can be seen in the corner of the studio mirror, watching.

“Bekaaaa!” Aisha screams as she ran to jump on her brother who never fails on catching her. 

“Have you behaved for Yuri today, _tasbaqa?_ ” The older Altin asks when he secured his arms around the small form of his sister.

“Yes!” Yuri watched her nuzzle at her brother like a bear cub. He could only hide his smile. 

“Are you sure?” Otabek asks slyly before turning to Yuri and ignoring the squirming of his sister. “Let’s ask Yuri that, shall we?” 

Hearing him say Yuri’s name is… An experience. He could only count in one hand the number of times Otabek addressed Yuri with his name. 

“I behaved! Didn’t I, Yuri?” Aisha Altin screamed.

Deciding to humour the siblings he replies, “I don’t know, _solnyshko,_ you did promise to just watch. And I think I saw you dancing behind me earlier.”

“But—But, you said… You said no jumps, and I…”

Yuri laughs and he’s sure he caught Otabek smile too. “You did well today. She was as behaved as a puppy.” 

“Well I guess you did well today, _tasbaqa._ ” Otabek says before nodding to Yuri. “Well, ready to go home?”

“Yes!” She didn’t even ask to be placed down and the joy from being carried around by her brother is evident on her face. “Bye, Yuri! See you tomorrow!”

He waved the siblings out before sighing to the sudden quiet. 

Sometimes he wonders how his life would have turned out if he had siblings of his own. Maybe an annoying older sibling or a clingy mini-me, maybe life would be a little less consuming when things go rough. Or he would be a little less alone when he has to sit through the hospital’s waiting room when _Ded_ was being examined by the doctors. 

Maybe it would be less quiet. The quiet has its terrifying moments after all.

 

 

****

 

 

Yuri surveys the studio to make sure that he properly cleaned up for the day. The stereo is unplugged. No dirty nor sweaty leotards on display. The props for tomorrow’s class is ready for use inside the closet. His phone is back in his pocket and his earphones dangling from his neck, with music already blasting on their small pods. The pink Hello Kitty backpack is leaning neatly on the wall—

_Wait, what?_

Yuri frowns at his discovery. He squints his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating yet despite his efforts, the pink Hello Kitty backpack is still there. 

Yuri walks towards it and didn’t hesitate from picking up the bag. It surely belonged to one of his monsters. There is a small tag in one of the zippers and Yuri flipped it over to see which forgetful baby forgot their ballet stuff. 

_Aisha Altin._

Yuri couldn’t stop the fond smile even if he wanted to. She was so excited to go home with her brother that she forgot everything else. “Oh well,” Yuri whispers before placing the bag down again, unconsciously gentler than when he picked it up. 

He retracts his steps until he is opening the studio door and almost jumped out of his skin when   someone blocks his exit. 

“Flying fuck!” Yuri shouts and immediately raises a hand to massage the throbbing on his chest. He knew there is a blush on his face that’s already spreading on his neck and ears. He only wishes it’s only brought by surprise and not the giddy happiness of suddenly seeing Otabek Altin in front of him. 

Otabek looks as surprised as he Yuri is. “I didn’t mean to—”

Yuri waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I have seven lives left.” It’s too late to stop the joke from coming out and Yuri hops for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. His _Ded_ always joked about him being a cat, telling Yuri that he still have lives left whenever he was on one of his dramatic episodes. 

“That seems awfully specific.” Otabek replies and Yuri isn’t sure if he wanted the ground to swallow him anymore since Otabek is flashing one of his small smiles again. 

“Anyway,” Yuri straightened up, “in case you forgot, you already picked up Aisha.”

“Um, no… I was tucking her in when she said she forgot her backpack.” Otabek sighs and Yuri could almost imagine how the conversation went between the siblings. “I can pick it up tomorrow if you wanna go home…”

“No!” Yuri stops and he almost slapped himself for being so obvious. “No, I think I saw it. I can grab it real quick—” He didn’t even wait for Otabek to reply before he is running back inside. 

The pink Hello Kitty bag is still where he left it and Yuri could have almost kissed Aisha Altin’s chubby cheeks for this small opportunity. It isn’t everyday that he is graced with Otabek’s attention and he’d live off whatever scraps he could get. 

He hugs the bag close to his chest and takes a second to calm the giddy butterflies in his stomach before marching back to the door where Otabek is surveying the pictures their studio has collected along the years. In fact he is looking at a photo of Yuri; ten year old Yuri posing in his prince costume. It was shot during his first recital. 

“I remember this.”

“Remember what?”

“You. In this play.” Otabek looks back at him and if he is any other guy, Yuri would have given him a warning glare to be careful with his words. Some guys were obvious with their gender roles that their words turn cruel. “It was _The Little Prince,_ wasn’t it?”

Yuri nods. How Otabek remembers the title of the play is beyond Yuri. He could have forgotten it if Minako isn’t bringing it up every now and then for the little monsters to hear. 

“It was a good play.” 

Yuri wants to kick himself at how fast he blushed at that compliment. It might have been nine years too late but hearing Otabek complimenting him is more than enough. 

“I was a novice then.” Yuri shrugs. 

“And you still left an impression that was so…” Yuri waits for a few seconds to let Otabek think for his word until the seconds turn into a full minute. Only then did he realise that Otabek left him hanging. He would have released a tantrum if he was in the mood in channeling his fifteen year old self. 

“It’s late, let’s go.” A little angry, he hands the backpack to Otabek a little forceful than he intended before leading them both out of the building. Maybe Otabek was only being polite, starting a conversation with Nikolai’s grandson and Aisha’s ballet teacher because it was the _normal_ thing to do. He wasn’t like Yuri who always harboured an ulterior motive. 

It is so unfair. _Otabek’s so cool._ Everything he does affects Yuri and he would admit that he was intimidated. And that says a lot. 

It is past 9PM when they finally exit the building. Otabek kept to himself like a normal citizen and Yuri is still rioting in his head. They would separate ways in the next few minutes and Yuri can’t even construct the proper casual goodbye without sounding like a depraved flirt. 

Yuri tears his eyes from his dirty Chucks to look ahead, silently hoping that the quiet night environment would be enough to clear his head. 

Except it didn’t. 

A few yards from Yuri is a group of men. 

They looked like men who know labour and work hard with the mere power of their hands and physical strength. They are also twice as big as Yuri’s physique and in a normal day, they only looked like a group of friends having a nightcap before heading home and hitting the sack. Yuri won’t be worried if it’s any other day because Yuri had encountered his fair share of unwanted drunken attention, even from men thrice his age. 

But recently, his nights are terrorised by men who hunted him; their shadows and voices more monstrous than that wolf who always ended his nightmare.

“Um…” He would swallow his pride. He could offer to walk Otabek home or wherever the guy is willing to let Yuri tail him because to hell with it, Yuri didn’t want to tempt fate and walk home with paranoia clinging to his shoulders.

“I can drop you off,” Otabek offers before Yuri had the chance to beg for his life, “if it’s okay with you, Yuri.”

When Yuri looks back, Otabek is looking at the same group of men too. And there is an intensity in his eyes that Yuri  never saw before. 

Or maybe he did? That _slight_ amber on Otabek’s eyes are familiar. 

 


End file.
